


Starting Over

by circ_bamboo



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: F/F, oc_bigbang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-05
Updated: 2010-11-05
Packaged: 2017-10-13 01:02:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/131084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/circ_bamboo/pseuds/circ_bamboo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ally Jarvis is a medic aboard the USS Yorktown under Captain Pike and XO Number One; however, Captain Pike has just been given an offer he can't refuse, and he and a significant portion of the crew are staying on earth. Ally would sell her soul to get aboard the Enterprise, but now-Captain Number One thinks she's incompetent. (She may be right.) Can Ally manage to be promoted, such that Pike will consider taking her on when he gets the Enterprise? Also, there's this new nurse named Dana who's giving very mixed signals . . .</p>
            </blockquote>





	Starting Over

**Author's Note:**

> For the oc_bigbang (original character). I got double-arted, one officially from weaselett and one from my beta, and you can find them [here](http://community.livejournal.com/themulberrybush/1458.html) (official) and [here](http://boosette.livejournal.com/1061960.html) (boosette).
> 
> Right. Thanks be to boosette for beta work (i.e., listening to me whine), and also for telling me about the oc_bigbang. And thanks to weaselett for the arting, and thanks to the mods for keeping me on track.
> 
> This is sort of a sequel to [Claimed](http://archiveofourown.org/works/128561) and its spin-off, [Consolation Prize](http://archiveofourown.org/works/128560). There are a few other short stories in this 'verse; some are posted here on AO3 and some are not. I'll collect them all later.
> 
> Warning for some dub-con (under the influence of a chemical).

### Part I: _Late 2254_

Ensign Allison Jarvis was just about to step into the sonic shower when her comm vibrated on the sink where she'd set it. She thought about not answering it, but it could be a medical emergency . . . She flipped it open.

 _> Get to Observation Deck B now!<_ The message was from—who else—Lieutenant Commander Caitlin Barry, her occasional, er, something or other. Fuck buddy? Probably. But she'd sent it from her personal frequency, not from one of the ship frequencies, so it was definitely a booty call and not a real emergency.

Ally sent back, _> Can it wait?<_

 _> No. Now. Trust me when I say it'll be worth your while.<_

True. Time spent with—or under, beside, behind, above, whatever—Cait was _always_ worth it.

Ally sighed, pulled her uniform back on, skinned her blonde hair back into a bun, and sent a quick _> I'm coming<_ before heading out and towards the observation decks. When the turbolift opened, she saw Cait, her backside facing Observation Deck A, her ear pressed to the door of Observation Deck B. Before she could speak, Cait turned and gestured for her to be quiet, and to come up to her.

The door to the observation deck was open a tiny crack; Ally wondered why, since doors didn't do that, until she remembered that Cait was, after all, the chief engineer. "What's going on?" she mouthed.

Cait wrapped herself around Ally and murmured in her ear, barely audible even at close range, "Mommy and Daddy are fighting. Shh."

Ally listened and heard snatches of a conversation between, apparently, Captain Pike and Commander One. "It is _not_ what I want," the captain said. "You know full well what I want."

"What you want," Number One said, "is—illogical. It's not the best move for either of us."

"You don't honestly think I should—"

"I do."

"Recruiting, One!" Ally heard a clang that sounded, inexplicably, like silverware against a china plate. "I'm supposed to be on the bridge of a _starship_."

"And you will be again, in three years, and it'll be the _Enterprise_."

Ally's head snapped around so fast that she almost bashed into Cait's chin. She raised her eyebrows as far as she could, and Cait whispered, "In a minute."

"One—" Captain Pike sighed so loudly that Ally could hear him clearly. "This wasn't exactly how the conversation was supposed to go."

"Chris, we agreed that—whatever this is between us, it wasn't going to affect work. And it's affecting work. I don't really think there's anything to say other than that."

Captain Pike said something inaudible, and One replied, "Yes, of course, but sometimes it isn't enough."

Before Ally realized she was hearing footsteps, Cait had whipped her around and swallowed the bottom half of her face, maneuvering them so they were on the opposite wall, by the door to Observation Deck A. Ally was bright enough to figure out what was going on, so she got one hand in Cait's auburn hair before Commander One left the other observation deck, and reached the other for her cheek.

She didn't see what actually happened, but the footsteps hesitated for perhaps one heartbeat before they strode on, confidently, to the turbolift. Cait kept Ally pinned there until the turbolift doors shut, and then released her lips to pant for a moment. "Act two," she said, kissing her again as Captain Pike came out of the observation deck.

"Get a room, you two," he said, a top note of amusement balanced over something much heavier.

Cait turned and Ally looked up, trying for innocence and probably failing.

The captain was smiling, but looked tired. "There's some of Yeoman Colt's famous lemon-berry cheesecake in there. We didn't make it to dessert." He gestured to Observation Deck B and then used the same hand to rub the back of his head. "Someone should enjoy it." He turned, not waiting for a response, and headed for the turbolift, disappearing behind the doors a moment later.

Ally looked at Cait, and said, "Do you think he's going after her?"

Cait shrugged. "I should probably go after her."

Ally frowned. "Give it about ten minutes, and then see if they're in the same room. If not, you can go then. If so, then it doesn't matter."

"Why ten minutes?"

"'Cause you owe me an explanation over cheesecake."

Cait hesitated, clearly torn, and then said, "You make a good point."

They entered the observation deck together and saw what looked like nothing so much as the ruins of a romantic dinner. A table with a real tablecloth sat by the window, with fake candles still flickering, the chairs pushed back and napkins bunched messily. Real china plates held the remains of a steak and a few sad broccoli stalks—obviously the captain's plate—and an orderly pile of asparagus ends next to exactly half a pat of butter. Both glasses contained the dregs of red wine, and the aforementioned cheesecake slices sat untouched on smaller plates. Ally grabbed Pike's plate and scrubbed the fork on the napkin before diving in, and Cait did the same with the XO's slice.

"So," Ally said, a couple of blissful mouthfuls later. "'Mommy and Daddy are fighting'? What would Number One say if she knew you called her that?"

"Who says she's Mommy?" Cait said, and Ally snorted. "So, yeah, you were my plausible deniability. Sorry about that. At least you got cheesecake out of the deal."

"Yeah," Ally said, and took another forkful. "And I didn't even have to sell my soul. So, Pike's gonna get the _Enterprise_?"

"They offered it to him, if he pays a tithe of three years of recruiting, on and off-world. He may have teaching duties as well."

"Ahh," she said. "Three years? Is he going to do it?"

Cait waved her fork in the air. "We don't know yet, but if that man has an ounce of sense in his head, he will."

"Fair enough," Ally said. "So, um—is Number One going to get the _Yorktown_?"

"Unknown, but hopefully."

"Damn," Ally breathed.

Cait gave her a look. "You still think she hates you?"

Ally shrugged. "I think the entire command staff—present company excepted—hates me."

"If that were true, why would Pike give you his cheesecake?"

"Good point, but still."

"No one hates you."

"Commander One hates me, I'm pretty sure," Ally said, using her finger to wipe the raspberry sauce off the plate. "Captain Pike only knows who I am in relation to you, and I'm not sure he's all that comfortable with it. Dr. Boyce thinks I'm incompetent. Nurse Lrrr thinks I'm incompetent. Lieutenant Spock thinks I'm incompetent. Lieutenant Tyler called me something horrible in Spanish the other day. CPO Garrison thinks I'm stupid, in addition to incompetent. You like me, but I give good head." She shrugged, sucking on her finger to get the last of the sauce.

"You do give good head," Cait allowed. Her eyes dropped to watch Ally's mouth on her finger.

"Besides," Ally said, "this conversation isn't about me. It's about Pike and Number One and the _Enterprise_."

"I don't know anything I haven't told you," Cait said. "Look, you know why they think you're incompetent."

"Because I _am_ incompetent," Ally said, sighing.

"You're a lab rat trying to be an EMT," Cait said. "Of course you're not at your best. If you'd only tell someone, or let me, your life might be a little easier."

"No," Ally said, as she had a hundred times over the last four years, meaning both _Don't tell anyone_ and _Stop bugging me about it_.

"Out of curiosity, what did Tyler call you?" Cait asked, blatantly changing the subject.

Ally shrugged. "He said something unkind about my mother."

"What did you do?"

She shrugged again, but flushed. "I walked into the turbolift to go back to my quarters and someone apparently hadn't learned how to jam the doors yet."

Cait laughed. "You walked in on him and Ensign Waldorf? Is there anyone on this ship you haven't seen naked?"

"I've never seen Spock naked, thank God," Ally said. "I don't think I'd survive." She shook her fork at Cait. "I still haven't forgiven you for seeing my boss naked, by the way."

Cait laughed again. "But he strips so pretty!"

Ally shuddered, and finished the last bite of the cheesecake. "He's _so_ not my type, and now he alternately glares at me and ignores me."

"Still?" Ally nodded, and Cait sighed. "Look, I'll talk to him."

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Cait, you'll just make it _worse_. Don't worry about it. It's only been a few weeks. He'll forget."

Cait looked dubious, but she nodded. Looking up, she obviously remembered, and said, "Computer, locate Commander One."

"Commander One is in Captain Pike's quarters," the computer replied, in the bland tones that had always sounded a bit like Number One herself to Ally.

"Oh, good," Cait said. She took another bite of cheesecake—her last—and closed her eyes. "I love 'em dearly but I don't know that I love 'em more than this cheesecake." She opened her eyes.

Ally knew that look. She thought about it for a moment— _you know, why not?_ —and said, "Race you back to your quarters?

Cait grinned. "Sure."

* * *

Afterwards, Ally had buried her head in Cait's shoulder and was sliding towards a light doze as Cait said, "You should talk to Phil."

That jolted her awake. Normally if she said 'no' once in a day, Cait would leave it alone. "I said no."

"Are you afraid of him? He's really nice, you know."

Ally tried to think of her stubborn, taciturn CMO as 'nice' and failed. "I'm not afraid of him," she said, rolling to her other side.

"He probably drinks too much," Cait said as if Ally hadn't said anything, "but he really just wants everyone to stay alive. And good _God_ is he thorough." </>

This conversation, especially while naked, was just too surreal. "Cait," she said with a groan. "I'm pretty sure this is not normal pillow talk."

"Do we ever have normal pillow talk?"

"I guess not," she admitted, and rolled back to bite Cait's collarbone.

* * *

A week later, Cait caught her leaving the mess. "Come with me," she ordered, and Ally shrugged and followed her to her room. "There's another way," Cait said, once the door closed.

Ally frowned. "Another way for what?"

"I was talking with Number One about something completely unrelated, and she happened to drop that every time someone schedules a meeting with Pike, he makes a point of rereading their entire personnel file, even if it's, like, Phil."

"What does this . . . Oh." She frowned again. "But what on earth would I use as my reason for wanting to meet with him in the first place?"

"Oh, well, you'd be calling the meeting because you want to discuss if there's any possible way that you can be part of the group that will be transferring to the _Enterprise_ after he gets it. And if he's already read your file, he'll know that you're cross-qualified—overqualified—to do something other than be a medic." Cait sat on her bunk and patted the spot next to her.

 _I'm not a cat,_ Ally thought, but went to sit next to her anyway. "Cait, I—" She sighed. "You know what? You're right; that might work. I'd feel like I'm being disrespectful to Dr. Boyce, though. As much as I think he thinks I'm an idiot, he's been a fair boss and has given me accurate performance reviews. I don't want him to think that I'm so desperate to get out of his department."

Cait twisted her lips. "I didn't think of that," she said. "It's perfectly legitimate for you to ask to meet with the captain, though. Pike's got a standing offer to the entire crew for a meeting at any time, to discuss anything."

Ally shuddered. "No thank you."

"You're afraid of Pike, too?"

 _Yes._ "No," she said. "Not afraid. Just—wary."

Cait smiled. "I promise, he's not so bad, either. Just sarcastic."

Ally tried to return the smile. "Sure. Look, Cait, I gotta go—I promised Statler I'd meet him in about fifteen minutes. Catch you later?"

"Of course. Think about it, okay?" Cait leaned over to kiss her, warm and affectionate, and Ally was able to muster a real smile before leaving.

* * *

"Jarvis, Clov is _allergic_ to diphenhydramine!" Dr. Boyce's voice got louder until he was shouting by the end. "Get me—no, _not_ you, Jarvis, you've done enough damage—Nurse Lrrr, get me ten ccs of hydrous fexofenadine, _stat_!"

Ally slipped out of the room in the melee that followed and went to check on the patients in single rooms. Fortunately, her skill in reading biobeds hadn't deserted her yet.

Oh, no, that wasn't until later, when she misread the results on a surgical patient and missed the early stages of infection, leading to more emergency surgery.  
She fought back tears as she ran back to her quarters after it ended. _Shit, shit, shit._ She had to do _something_ , and at that moment, she didn't _care_ if Boyce was insulted, because frankly, her performance anxiety was obviously getting worse, not better.

Sitting at her console, she tapped out a quick message to Yeoman Colt, requesting a meeting with the captain, stared at the screen for a full ten minutes, and hit 'send' before she could change her mind.

* * *

Dr. Boyce informed her at the beginning of her next shift that he was declining giving her an official reprimand. She thanked him politely, gritted her teeth, and checked her padd as often as she could to see if Yeoman Colt had responded yet.

She didn't until nearly 1200; by then, Ally had chewed seven of her nails down to the quick and had had to wear gloves for the rest of her shift. Her meeting was scheduled for 0700 the next morning.

Ally didn't sleep much that night; she kept waking up every half-hour or so, and finally, at 0400, she sent Colt a message cancelling her appointment. After that, she managed to get a solid two hours of rest before waking up to make sure she wasn't supposed to be meeting with the captain.

She wasn't. There was a message on her padd acknowledging receipt of the cancellation. Good. And she was on beta shift that day, so she rolled over and went back to sleep.

* * *

"Jarvis, my office, five minutes," Dr. Boyce ordered, a few days later, and ducked back into his office without waiting for a reply. Ally looked at the chrono; her shift ended in five minutes. _Great._

Precisely five minutes later, she touched her fingers to the annunciator outside of his office; the door slid open, and she stepped in.

Dr. Boyce was turned away from the door, fiddling with something. "Have a seat," he said, and Ally dropped into the chair, knees together, palms flat on her thighs. She had no idea why she was in here but it didn't look good.

He kept her waiting for probably another thirty seconds, and then turned around, a martini glass in either hand. Ally's jaw dropped, and then she closed it and swallowed. Dr. Boyce set the dirty martini with what looked like half a jar of olives on his desk, and handed her a second glass, perfectly clear, and a toothpick of olives on the side. "Cait," he said by way of explanation, and she nodded.

He sat down, and Ally nervously nibbled on one of the olives. "Let's start over," he said. "Phil Boyce, CMO, U.S.S. _Yorktown_."

"Allison Jarvis, Ensign, medic and EMT, U.S.S. _Yorktown_."

"And drinker of the world's driest vodka martinis."

Ally shrugged. "I think you've got more olives in that glass than alcohol. Sir."

He gave a sharp bark of laughter. "Antioxidants."

"Lemons are more traditional. Dr. Boyce, sir, I can't really believe you brought me in here to discuss our respective tastes in martinis."

He shrugged. "Seemed as good a place to start as any." He leaned back in his chair and fished out an olive with another toothpick. "You're not really an EMT."

Ally frowned. "I have my EMT certification from—"

"No, I know about that, and I know you worked shifts at both Starfleet Medical and San Francisco General while you were at the Academy."

"Then—"

"I also know that your four-year degree is in microbiology, with a specialty in mycology."

"That doesn't make me unqualified to be an EMT or medic." _Not this discussion, not this discussion, not this discussion._ Her hands started shaking, and she clenched the stem of the martini glass to make them stop.

It was Dr. Boyce's turn to frown. "I was given the impression that you'd rather be a researcher."

"Cait?" she asked. _I'm going to kill her._

"No," he said. "Captain Pike told me to look in your personnel file. And then I asked Cait about it, and she told me. I also read your psych profile, and frankly, I'm surprised they let you into Starfleet."

Ally bit back her first response, which was a sarcastic _Thanks, sir_ , and went with her second, a noncommittal "Oh?"

He tapped a finger on his padd. "Everyone seems to have agreed that your—issues—with high-pressure situations could be solved by putting you in more high-pressure situations. If your performance last week is any indication, then everyone was wrong." He sighed. "Your near-pathological fear of authority figures—don't think I hadn't noticed that, Ensign—is probably adding to the problem, because you won't even think about asking for help when you need it. You slipped through the cracks, and I'm sorry. How are we going to fix this, Jarvis?"

"I don't know, sir." It was frightening, how much he'd just said. She took a gulp of martini.

"I barely have enough emergency-trained medical staff as it is. I've put in for more nurses when we get back to Earth, but that's six months from now."

"Are you going to be staying with the ship, sir?" Ally asked, and then bit her tongue.

Dr. Boyce raised an eyebrow. "You know about that?"

"I've heard things."

He sat back in his chair again. "Well. Starfleet wants me to be surgeon general; did Cait tell you that?"

She shook her head. "No, sir. Congratulations, sir."

"I'll probably take it, but I'm going to make them wait."

This whole conversation was still unnerving her. Normally, she could count the number of words he said to her in a day on one hand, and they were all work related—but if it meant she wasn't getting discharged, well . . . "How long do you think you can make them wait, sir?"

"I'm hoping for a year. That should give Number One enough time to get settled in as captain, and, as a bonus—" He pinned her with an ice-blue glare. "—it'll give me enough time to figure out what I should do about you."

She blinked, frozen in place.

Dr. Boyce sighed again, and fished out another olive. "You're not afraid of Cait."

"No, sir," she said, "but . . ." There really wasn't a polite way to put it. _We're fucking_?

"Were you afraid of her before you and she were—more than friends?"

Ally frowned. "I don't really remember. She's never been _my_ boss, though."

"Damnit, I knew I should have gotten that psych qualification," he said, mostly to himself. "I might be able to spare you for one shift out of every five or six."

"Sir?"

"To go work in a lab," he said.

"Oh," she said. Through the terror still hazing her mind, a thread of hope wove itself in. "Thank you, sir. If you can do that, it would be great."

"I'll contact Spock, see what I can do. In the meantime—don't make me regret this, Ensign."

In other words, stop with the stupid mistakes. Ally nodded vigorously.

"If you want, you can go now, or you can stay, finish the martini, and practice not being scared to death of me." Dr. Boyce gave her a half-smile, and she nodded again, mutely. She didn't move for about thirty seconds, and he said, "Either you're petrified or you've decided to stay."

"I'm not petrified, sir," she said. _At least, not that much._

He raised an eyebrow, but didn't press the matter. "So. Your thesis was on airborne spore degradation?"

"Yes," she said. "There should have been a copy attached to my personal file."

"I'd prefer you tell me about it," he said.

 _Of course._ This was some sort of therapy, or bonding situation. Cait had probably promised him some sort of kinky sex thing—not that she even remotely wanted to think about that, because _ew_ \--in exchange for not being mean to her. "Well, um, I started with _Stachybotrys kapiti_ , a variety of black mold, and the various air-filtration systems used in Starfleet."

He couldn't possibly be interested in black mold, but he listened patiently and asked intelligent questions in all the right places, and by the end of the conversation and her martini, she was—maybe—marginally less afraid of her boss. Maybe. At the very least, it was much easier for her to look at him and not think of what he looked like naked. _Yuck._

* * *

A week or so later, a confirmation receipt came back for a meeting with Captain Pike, and Ally frowned at it in confusion. She sent a message to Yeoman Colt. _I didn't request a meeting._

She got a prompt response. _No. He did._

Oh. She couldn't exactly cancel that one, then. _Damnit._

By the time the day of the meeting came around, she'd bitten all ten of her fingernails down to the quick and had painted them with several layers of liquid bandage in vain attempts to stop herself. Indeed, as she waited outside the captain's office, she gnawed at the side of one finger, just past the bandage. A moment later, her chrono beeped, and she touched the annunciator.

"Come," she heard, and stepped forward, hoping she didn't faint or throw up or both.

Captain Pike was sitting behind his desk, signing something on a padd. _Huh,_ she thought irrelevantly. _I hadn't realized he was left-handed._ "I'll just be a moment, Ensign Jarvis," he said without looking up, and she nodded.

A second later, she said, "Yes, sir," aloud, realizing he probably hadn't seen her movement, but her voice came out as a squeak.

Captain Pike did look up at that, but he didn't smile. "Sit down, Ensign," he said, and she nodded and obeyed quickly.

His estimate was reasonably accurate; before she'd particularly had enough time to settle into the chair, he set aside the padd and said, "So, Ensign Jarvis. You scheduled a meeting with me two weeks ago, and canceled it."

"Yes, sir." Damnit, she was still squeaky. She cleared her throat unobtrusively.

"But you and Dr. Boyce spoke, correct? That's why I'm approving an order to cross-register you as both a medic and a researcher?"

"Yes, sir." Nope. Still squeaking.

Captain Pike sighed and toyed with his stylus. "Is there anything I can do, Ensign, that would set you more at ease?"

Ally blinked. "Probably not, sir," she said.

"I didn't think so." He sighed again. "Why did you ask for the meeting two weeks ago?"

"I don't remember, sir," she said, which was a lie, but hopefully he couldn't tell.

His eyes narrowed, and her hopes were dashed. "Pardon my language, Jarvis, but bullshit."

"Sir?"

"I could order you to tell me."

"You could," she said. It was only an acknowledgment.

"I'd rather not," he said. "So I'll guess. I know you had a bad day that week. Perhaps you were going to ask me if you could transfer out of Medical?"

"Not exactly, sir."

"Well, you and Phil seem to have come to some sort of agreement, so even if so, you don't seem to want to transfer anymore."

"No, sir." This conversation was like pulling teeth, and it was entirely her fault. He'd probably let her go earlier if she just said something . . . "Sir, I—" She gritted her teeth, swallowed forcibly, and tried again. "I don't think it's escaped your notice that I've been an ensign for five years?"

"Your evaluations have never been high enough to qualify for promotion, Jarvis," he said, voice as gentle as she'd ever heard it.

"I know," she said, "and I'm hoping perhaps the partial transfer to Sciences will help. But—" This was difficult. Very difficult. "I understand that the ship is going to be undergoing a change of command."

"I hope you enjoyed the cheesecake, Ensign Jarvis," Captain Pike said, his tone a warning.

"It's—but." She stopped. "It was amazing cheesecake." She paused again. "I understand I'm not an amazingly competent medic—all right, I'm just barely above 'useless' on Dr. Boyce's scale—and I have never, ever used my, er, friendship with Lieutenant Commander Barry to affect my professional life in any way but I'm also well aware of the fact that Commander One has, um, an exceptionally low opinion of me and I don't know that perhaps it would be better for me to transfer?" _Also, I would sell my soul to be on the_ Enterprise.

"Hm," Pike said, tapping his fingers on the table. "Well, I know Number One would never allow her personal feelings to influence her work, or vice versa, so no, you probably don't need to transfer, and with your fear of practically anyone with a higher rank than yours, I would expect you would actually be more likely to achieve the scores necessary for promotion by staying here."

It wasn't just anyone with a higher rank; she was actually terrified of Yeoman Colt but not a handful of the lieutenants, but she didn't tell him that. She nodded.

"However, based on your somewhat disjointed commentary," he said, looking less annoyed than amused, "I'm guessing this is you trying to ask me what you will need to do in the next three years such that I'd take you in a transfer to the _Enterprise_."

She stared at him, wide-eyed. Damn, he was good.

"I'll take that as confirmation," he said, almost smiling. "Make lieutenant, definitely. Don't do anything _too_ stupid. And—" He pinned her with a glare, surprisingly similar to Dr. Boyce's. "Get Number One to write you a letter of recommendation. It's not a guarantee—I may already have too many mycologists on staff--"

Ally pressed her lips together. Starfleet ran high to astrophysicists, botanists, and medical professionals, not mold experts.

"—but I will give you a more-than-fair chance."

"Thank you, sir," she said. "Thank you so much."

"You're welcome, Jarvis. Now, I think I've scared you enough, right?"

Ally nodded and escaped.

### Part II: _Six months later_

"I'm sorry," Ally said to Cait, "but there is no way I can hold three of these martini glasses. I'll be right back with yours."

Starfleet had spared little expense at the combined reception at Headquarters to celebrate Number One's promotion to captain and Pike's lateral move to recruiting and professorial duties. It turned out to be an excellent opportunity to introduce the new members of the _Yorktown_ 's crew to the returning members, as well. The crew and associated Starfleet dignitaries, in turn, had decided not to spare their livers in attempting to take advantage of all the free alcohol available. Ally had shown up late, due to an experiment on the ship running over, and the minute she'd shown up, she'd been dispatched to get round three or so of martinis for Cait and Dr. Boyce, who she would never, ever be able to call "Phil," even when he was telling some improbable story about an away mission with Captain Pike back when he was Lt. Commander Pike and gesturing with a half-eaten breadstick.

She returned to them, sitting at a round, café-style table near the wall but not so near that they couldn't see the erstwhile dance floor, and dropped off a third glass. Cait's 'martini' was actually a chocolate martini, and Ally and Dr. Boyce had shared a look of disgust at the order.

"And the priestess said, 'But isn't that how humans mate?'" Dr. Boyce said, and Cait snorted. Ally smiled—she'd missed the middle of the story, so it wasn't actually all that funny to her, but it also wasn't worth asking Dr. Boyce to repeat himself.

"Thanks, sweetheart," Cait said, and dropped a kiss on Ally's cheek. Ally sat down next to her, almost as far away from Dr. Boyce as she could but not quite, and turned to watch the rest of the room.

 _Whoa._ Who was that? She craned her neck to follow one of the new crewmembers as she headed to the bar, wearing a dress-skirt uniform in science blue with lieutenant's stripes around her wrists. She was tall—well, everyone looked tall to Ally—her hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail low on her head, and she curved in all, and Ally did mean _all_ , of the right places.

Cait gave a low wolf-whistle, fortunately probably not audible above the music. "Who is that? I got dibs."

Dr. Boyce's chair scraped as he turned. "Ah, yes. Dana Cathcart. My new OB-GYN nurse."

"Ah, so you can't touch," Cait said. "Good. More for me."

"Hey, who says you get her?" Ally said, her voice a little sharper than she liked. Fortunately Cait and Dr. Boyce were both three martinis in, and didn't react. She felt inexplicably possessive towards Nurse Dana Cathcart, though, and she'd never even said so much as a word to her.

"We can share," Cait suggested.

Ally forced herself to smile. "Sounds good to me." Even though her glass was still half-full, she stood. "I need a refill." Dana Cathcart wasn't in a position of authority over her, so she was able to walk to the bar and stand next to her with relative ease, ordering another dry vodka martini, olives on the side.

Nurse Cathcart turned her head slightly, and Ally smiled at her. "Hi," she said. "I'm Ally Jarvis."

"Hi, Ally Jarvis. I'm Dana Cathcart. Are you coming or going?" Up close, Cathcart was even more stunning than at a distance. Long lashes framed dark eyes; the blue of the dress uniform was a lovely contrast with her dark skin that proclaimed some Latina or Mediterranean heritage, but her accent was pure Middle American.

"I'm staying on the _Yorktown_ ," Ally said. "You're a nurse? I'm an on-call medic, so we'll be working together sometimes."

"Ah," Cathcart said, and picked up her drink, which looked like a Cardassian sunrise.

Something bubbled up her chest and threatened to shoot out of her fingertips. Before that could happen, Ally harnessed it, took a deep breath, and said, "I see that you just got a drink, but would you like to dance?"

Cathcart raised an eyebrow. "Are you going to lead?" she asked dubiously.

"I can," Ally said, her tone mild, but already the sinking feeling of rejection was leaking into her gut.

Cathcart's lips thinned. "Yeah. I don't think so." She turned away, and Ally felt her face go flaming red.

Looking around, she spotted the nearest exit and made towards it, intending to get the _fuck_ out of there, but before she got within twenty feet of it, a hand on her arm made her stop.

It was, of all people, Dr. Boyce. Holding out a hand, he said, "Dance with me."

She looked at his hand, and said, "Why?" and narrowly resisted smacking herself in the forehead for such a stupid question.

"Because I saw and heard what happened there, and I'll be giving Nurse Dana Cathcart a short talk on how properly to express rejection to a coworker before you know if she's going to be an ass about respecting boundaries." In a different tone, he added, "Also, Jarvis, it's a cha-cha, not the Andorian tango."

"Yeah, all right," she said, even though his logic didn't make any sense whatsoever, and took his hand. Ever since the Infamous Martini Conversation, as Cait called it, he'd been surprisingly avuncular towards her, and they'd come to an understanding that allowed Ally only to be moderately frightened of him on a regular basis.

Fortunately, he could, in fact, dance. It didn't make them particularly graceful together, though. "You keep trying to lead," he muttered in her ear when she was angled towards him.

"That's because you're not doing it right," she said, next time she was close enough for him to hear. "Sir."

He laughed, and spun her out and back in.

The song ended, and she smiled. "Thank you, Dr. Boyce, but I think I'm going to leave anyway. I'm just—not in a reception mood anymore."

He nodded. "I understand. You'll have to say goodbye to Cait, though, and probably Chris and One."

Ally shuddered.

"Aw, c'mon. Didn't we work on this?" He smiled at her as they walked over to Cait's table.

"I'm sorry, Dr. Boyce, but there is no way in this universe that I will not be scared of Captain One."

"That was weird," Cait remarked, as they got close. "But kind of hot. Is there no way I can convince the two of you—"

"No," Ally and Dr. Boyce said in unison.

"Damn. Hey, Ally, if you still want to leave, I'll go with you to say goodbye to the captains."

"Thanks," Ally said. "See you tomorrow, sir."

"See you tomorrow, Ensign." Dr. Boyce sat in the seat he'd had before and picked up the remains of Ally's first martini.

"That was impressive, by the way," Cait murmured in her ear as they headed over to the clump of dignitaries. "When you just went straight up to the hot nurse, introduced yourself, and asked her to dance."

Ally laughed. "Yeah. Look at how well that worked out."

"So she's got bad taste," Cait said, with a shrug.

"Thanks, Cait," Ally said, and gave her a halfhearted smile.

She managed to congratulate Captain One on her promotion without freezing in terror; One even smiled at her, although not in a comforting way. Captain Pike clapped her on the shoulder and smiled at her as well, which was somewhat less terrifying.

"You want me to come with you?" Cait asked. Ally and most of the rest of the lower-ranked officers on the _Yorktown_ were staying in temporary housing on campus; Cait, like most of the senior staff, had an actual apartment.

Ally thought about it for a moment, and said, "No. I'll be fine." She thought perhaps Cait should remain with Dr. Boyce, but wasn't about to say that.

"Okay," Cait said, and kissed her on the cheek. "Call me if you change your mind."

Ally nodded, and left, returning to her room and staring at the ceiling until she fell asleep.

* * *

A couple days later, a hail came at the door to her temporary quarters. "Come," she called, assuming it was Cait as pretty much no one else ever came to visit her.

It wasn't. The door opened, and Nurse Cathcart stood there. Ally felt her face harden. "Hello," she said, a bit icily.

"Hi," Cathcart said. "Um. Can I come in?" She looked uncomfortable, her fingers twitching by her sides.

"I don't really think we have anything to say to each other." Ally started turning toward her console.

"Maybe you don't," Cathcart said, "but I do. Look, I'm sorry."

Ally sighed, turned back to the door, and gestured for Cathcart to enter. "Yeah, we're not doing this in the hallway; come in." When the door closed behind the other woman, she continued. "If Dr. Boyce said something, don't worry about it. We're square. I'll keep out of your way."

"He did," Cathcart said. "He was right. I was rude. I should have handled that differently. You were—awfully polite."

Ally twisted her lips. "Um, thanks? But seriously—forget it. Dr. Boyce is, I don't know. I think he thinks he's my uncle or something."

"Is he like that with all his employees?" Cathcart asked.

"No," Ally said. "It's—you know, I don't know you well enough to discuss this." She knew she was being rude, but it was so difficult not to be, with the memory of the rejection in front of, oh, everyone she'd ever known still stinging in her ears.

"Fine," Cathcart said. She sighed. "I deserve that, I know. Do you think we can start over?"

The words sounded suspiciously familiar, and Ally narrowed her eyes at Cathcart. "Did Dr. Boyce put you up to this?"

Cathcart shrugged. "He told me to 'make it right.' I don't think he actually cares if we're friends or not." Now she was starting to react to Ally's frosty tones.

"Okay, okay." Ally waved her hands in surrender. "Sorry. Let's start over. I won't ask you to dance this time."

Cathcart smiled at that. "Okay."

"Ensign Allison Jarvis—Ally, usually." She held out a hand.

"Lieutenant Dana Cathcart. Nurse. Dana, to people who don't hate me." Cathcart—Dana—held out a hand, long-fingered and short-nailed, and shook Ally's. Her skin was warm, and her hand nearly engulfed Ally's much smaller one.

"Nice to meet you, Lieutenant Cathcart," she said, opting for formality.

"But we've just met! You can't hate me yet!" Cathcart quipped.

"All right then," Ally said. "Nice to meet you, _Dana_." It was pretty difficult to keep being annoyed at her when she was, well, flirting. Maybe not _flirting_ flirting, but . . . flirting. "So, you're a nurse, and you just transferred into the _Yorktown_. Where were you before that?"

"The Academy," Dana said. "I just finished my M.S.N. a few weeks ago. Specialty in obstetrics and gynecology."

Ally frowned. "Is there much demand for the former in Starfleet?"

"You'd be surprised how many people appear to disregard the fraternization rules," Dana said, and Ally laughed. "But no; I'm mostly here for pelvic exams and birth control 'scripts. Are you up to date on yours?"

"Ah, um." _Awkward._ "I don't sleep with men."

"Oh," Dana said. "Period suppressor?"

"Yeah, that one's up to date." Dr. Boyce regularly came up behind her and dosed her without saying anything. She was fine with that. "Can we not talk about my gynecological health?"

"Sorry," Dana said, flushing somewhat. "It's an occupational hazard. I used to train sex educators for public schools as well."

"Wow," Ally said.

"So, um, you're in Sciences?"

"Yeah. Actually, now that you're here, I'll be over in sciences full-time, unless there's an emergency. I'm a mycologist."

"Fungus?" Dana asked.

"Mold spores, mostly. Look, I'm guessing you don't want to talk about mold spores any more than I want to talk about my ovaries, so maybe we can discuss . . ." Ally pulled her hair out of its ponytail and ran her fingers through her hair to put it back up immediately. "I don't know. Movies?"

Dana smiled. "I'll get out of your hair. If," she said, "you'll meet me for lunch tomorrow."

"Lunch?"

"Yep. I see that you're pulling some shifts in the labs at the Academy," she said.

Damnit, Dana was cute. "Oh, so you're stalking me," Ally said, with an experimental smile.

"Only a little." Yep. Flirting. Maybe even _flirting_ flirting. "So, lunch tomorrow?"

"Yeah, lunch tomorrow."

Dana left, and Ally watched her go—well, watched a certain part of her go—without embarrassment. _That was weird._

Before lunch tomorrow, though, there was something she had to do.

* * *

"Hey, Ally," Cait said. "Come on in." She kissed her warmly, and stepped out of the way. Once the doors closed, she said, "What's new?"

"Um. So I'm having lunch with Dana tomorrow?" Damnit, her voice was going all squeaky again.

Cait raised an eyebrow. "Dana who shot you down?"

"Yeah. Um. Dr. Boyce apparently yelled at her."

"Yeah, he told me he was going to do that. Somehow this resulted in you getting a lunch date?" Cait still looked dubious.

"I don't know if it's a date or not and I don't really know how it happened but it was her idea and—" Ally stopped and took a deep breath. "What?"

Cait was looking at her strangely. "Are you breaking up with me?"

"I, um. Maybe?" She coughed and tried to lower her voice. "Or put the fuckbuddy thing on hiatus until I know if this is going somewhere?"

Cait started laughing. "Oh, Ally, sweetheart. It's fine. We knew this would happen eventually." She pulled Ally into her arms. "I love you, and you know I'm here if you need to talk or something."

"Sure," Ally said, holding Cait tightly for a moment. "Love you too."

They stayed like that for a moment or two, until they both spoke at the same time.

"Look, I should get going," Ally said.

"So Phil's going to be here soon," Cait said, and laughed.

They stepped apart, and Cait's chime sounded. "Come," she said, and Dr. Boyce walked in wearing civvies—jeans, a button-down shirt, and a jacket over top. He saw Ally there and stopped in his tracks, just inside the door.

"Jarvis."

"Dr. Boyce." _Maybe we'll be okay if we don't have the same girlfriend? Probably not._

"It's okay," Cait said. "She was just here to dump me, Phil. I think I'm going to need comforting."

Dr. Boyce snorted. "Sure, Cait. Good luck, Ally."

"Yeah, um. Thanks. See you." She headed back to her building.

 _Okay_ , she thought as she walked. _Clean slate. Even if this doesn't turn out to be anything other than dinner, it was time._ She paused. Cait had been wearing civvies, too—jeans, boots, and a form-fitting shirt. Were they going on a date? _Wow. I never got dates._ A lot of sex, though. Good sex. Ally smiled, thinking about it—and that she probably wasn't ever going to get it again. _Damnit._

A very small part of her admitted that she'd miss the cuddling more.

* * *

Dana had told her that she was filling in some shifts in the Academy's clinic, and that Ally should meet her there at noon. Ally arrived a few minutes early, and when the receptionist pointed her to the room Dana was in, she hung back in the door and watched.

Dana was treating a patient, and Ally couldn't hear what she was saying. She didn't need to, though; Dana looked fierce as she poked the young man wearing cadet reds in the chest with a finger and held up a small foil packet. A moment later, she opened the packet to reveal a small piece of latex, about six inches square— _ah. A dental dam._ Dana then picked up a small bottle of lube and demonstrated putting a drop on one side before placing it against the back of her hand and rubbing it with two fingers.

Ally squirmed, but the cadet was squirming more. He tried to get up again, but Dana pushed him back and held up another foil packet that turned out to hold a rubber glove. She proceeded to cut off the fingers and slit up the pinkie side to create what looked kind of like another dental dam, only with— _oh._

Ally watched Dana stick her tongue into the thumb space of the glove and had to look away before she laughed out loud at the cadet's reaction. _Not thinking about it, not thinking about it, not thinking about it._

She looked back a few moments later, and Dana was concluding her lecture by shoving about twenty foil packets of various sizes into a small bag and dumping it in the cadet's lap. He escaped a few moments later, his face as red as his shirt.

Dana made a few notes on her padd, and then turned around, smiling. "Hey, Ally."

It was like she was a completely different person, and Ally was thrown for a moment. "Uh. Hi, Dana."

"Ready to go?" Dana asked, and Ally nodded.

They ended up at a deli just off campus; Ally got a BLT with chips on the side, and Dana got chicken salad on a croissant. Dana insisted on paying, and Ally shrugged and let her. After a few minutes of companionable crunching, Dana said, "So, why did Ensign Statler give me a weird look when I said I was eating lunch with you?"

"Where did you run into Statler?" Ally asked, in a not-terribly-clever bit of misdirection.

"His temp quarters are across the hall from mine," Dana said. "You're not, I don't know, a serial killer, are you?"

Ally laughed. "Nope. You?" She recognized the same fierceness from Dana's safe-sex demonstration, only coated with honey now.

"Not that I know." Dana smiled back. "So. Statler?"

Ally sighed. "I don't know," she said. "It could be any of a dozen things. It was probably because you blew me off at the reception." It wasn't, though; she'd seen Statler at breakfast and had told him that Dana had apologized.

"Huh," Dana said. "I got the idea that it was because you're already seeing someone?"

Ally, in the midst of taking a drink, snorted water up her nose and spent the next minute attempting to get it out.

"Oh, my God," Dana said. "I'm sorry. Bad timing. It's a habit."

Ally flapped a hand and continued coughing and sniffling for another few seconds, and finally was able to speak. "It's okay."

Dana handed her a napkin, and Ally blew her nose one final time before she was done. "No," she said.

"No?" Dana asked.

"No, I'm not seeing anyone, although I was sort of seeing Cait Barry."

Dana tipped her head to one side, and Ally could almost see the gears spinning in her head. "Lieutenant Commander Caitlin Barry, chief engineer? Redhead, a few inches shorter than me?"

Ally nodded, dreading what was coming next.

"The one I saw wrapped around my new boss at the end of the reception?"

Yeah, that. "Yeah, that's her."

"Huh," Dana said again. "That's got to be weird."

Ally deliberately took a bite of her sandwich and chewed and swallowed before saying, "That's one way to put it." She ate another bite before the compulsion to explain took over. "Cait and I weren't exclusive. She didn't dump me for Dr. Boyce; we were both with her. I mean, not at exactly the same time because _no_ but, well, you get it."

Dana nodded. "So you're okay with Commander Barry and Dr. Boyce being together."

"I'm pretty sure he's about six months from proposing marriage to her," Ally said, leaning over the table.

"Wow," Dana said. "Really?"

"Well, it's difficult to tell—it's not like Dr. Boyce and I have ever discussed it."

"You still call him Dr. Boyce?" Dana asked.

"Well, yeah. He's my boss."

Dana, wisely, didn't question it further; instead she asked, "So how long were you and Commander Barry dating?"

Ally winced. Why did Dana keep asking the difficult questions. "I don't know if 'dating' was the right word for what we were doing," she said.

Dana nodded. "Well, as long as you were being safe."

Ally raised an eyebrow. "Dana, I was sleeping with the CMO's girlfriend. Do you think he'd let either of us get within two meters of an STI?"

"Good point," Dana said, and laughed.

Ally couldn't help but smile in response.

* * *

At exactly 1330, Ally got a textcomm from Cait. _> So how did it go?!?<_

 _> I'll tell you after shift. 1900 okay?<_

 _> Yes. Don't be late!<_

At 1859, Ally presented herself at Cait's apartment, and when it slid open, Cait was waiting inside, tapping one toe. "So?"

"It was weird," Ally said. She sketched a rough outline of the meal.

"Yes, but was it a date?" Cait sat down on her couch and patted the seat next to her.

Ally sat, but immediately stood to pace. "I don't know. Maybe a pre-date date?" She sighed. "I'm not really that secretive but I swear the woman has no concept of boundaries around things like that. I mean, she didn't touch me at all, but she's already asked me about what form of birth control I'm using, what exactly my relationship is with Dr. Boyce, and, well, what was going on between you and me."

"What did you say?"

"Well, obviously I told her I was a lesbian."

"Ally." Cait put on what Ally called her Chief Engineer Face.

"Yeah, all right. Anyway, I explained that you and I had been involved previously but were, at the moment, just good friends, and she nodded. And then she proceeded to connect the dots about Dr. Boyce herself. Her next question was, 'Wow. That's got to be weird.'"

Cait snorted. "She has no idea. Also, you're right—no boundaries."

"I thought about demanding to know her entire sexual history, but thought that might be too much."

"Oh, come on, Ally, I'm not your _entire_ sexual history."

"All of it since the Academy, which you know perfectly well."

Cait shrugged, one-sided.

"So on a different note, where did you and Dr. Boyce go last night?" Ally asked. "You were wearing _civvies._ "

"Huh?" Cait said. "Oh. A restaurant, with Chris and One. Thai food."

"Double-dating, eh?"

"It wasn't a _date_ ," Cait said, frowning. "It was—huh." She paused. "Well, all right, it was probably technically a date. I don't do dates, Ally; you know that."

"I think Dr. Boyce would be awfully happy if you did."

Cait raised an eyebrow. "So you ditch me and _now_ you want to talk about Phil? 'Cause I've always wanted to tell you about this thing he does with his tongue—"

"Ew. God, no," Ally said with a shudder. Truthfully, she probably could have stood it, but Cait was expecting her to be grossed out by the entire idea, so she obliged her with a _yuck_ face. "But I have a vested interest in both of you being happy—you, because we're friends, and him, because if he isn't and he thinks it's somehow my fault, he'll take it out on me. With a hypospray."

"Hah. Everything's fine, Ally. Don't worry. So when are you going to see Hot Nurse again?"

"Dana. Her name's Dana. And, well, dinner tomorrow."

"Woohoo!" Cait held up her hand for a high-five. "You've moved from lunch to dinner."

"Well, actually, she has a lunch meeting with some of the nursing staff tomorrow. So it's just convenient to do dinner." Ally shrugged. "We'll see."

"Yeah, we will," Cait said. "You know you have to report when it's over, right?"

Ally laughed. "Yes, of course."

"So what do you think of the new science officer? I like her," Cait said.

"Lieutenant Zelát? I haven't actually worked with her yet, although she sent me a request for an updated abstract for my last couple experiments."

"She's a beer snob. You'll get along with her just fine. And she's not even scary at all."

"We'll see about that," Ally said.

Cait shook her head.

* * *

"So then Lt. Zelát stops by, and of course that's right when everything decides to explode in my face," Ally said. "You'd think that growing mold in petri dishes wouldn't result in much explosive, but you'd be wrong."

Dana laughed, and pushed around the remains of meatloaf and potatoes on her plate. "If you come down to Sickbay, I can probably regrow your eyebrows for you."

"Thanks, but Dr. Boyce said this was the best he could do." Ally touched the thin pink skin on her forehead. "I'm missing the eyelashes a little more, but at least I kept all my hair."

Dana leaned forward. "Oh, I didn't even notice that your eyelashes were missing." She stared intently, dark eyes shadowed by her own thick fringe of lashes. "It's not that noticeable. I bet you had blonde eyelashes to start, huh?" She reached out to brush her fingers over Ally's cheek.

Ally's mouth went dry, and she had to swallow before she could say anything. "Uh. Yeah. Blonde." She looked away for a moment, collected her thoughts. "So, uh, where are you from?"

Dana tilted her head to one side in obvious confusion, but answered anyway. "Winnipeg. And you're from Baltimore, right?"

"Just outside," Ally said. "How'd you know?" She'd never had much of a discernible accent.

It was Dana's turn to look away, coloring again. "I, uh, read your file."

"Oh," Ally said. That was . . . weird. "Why?"

Dana's eyes flicked to hers, and then away. "Can't you guess?"

"No." _Why on earth . . .?_

Dana sighed. "I don't like going into any situation unless I have all the information I can. So before I went to apologize to you, I pulled your file, so I wouldn't stick my foot any further into my mouth than I already had."

"Oh," Ally said again. "I, um. That makes sense, but it's still a little weird."

"Yeah. Sorry about that. You can ask me anything you want, if that would make you feel better."

"How much wood would a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?" Ally said immediately, and Dana laughed.

* * *

 _> I still don't know if it was a date but we're having dinner again tomorrow. Also, she hacked into my file.<_

 _> IT'S TWOO LOVE<_

 _> Oh, hush you!<_

 _> What, like you haven't hacked into someone's file just because they were hot.<_

 _> Uh, no.<_

 _> Not even mine?<_

 _> Why would I hack into your file, Cait? You'll tell me more than I ever wanted to know.<_

 _> Good point.<_

* * *

Ally flopped onto Cait's couch. "We've had dinner together every single night for two weeks, Cait. Two. Whole. Weeks. Every day since we set off again. And I still don't know what's going on. She's giving me mixed signals! She'll touch my cheek, checking on my eyebrows and eyelashes, and then . . . nothing."

"You should take the initiative," Cait said, sitting more decorously. "Ask her what's going on."

Ally snorted. "Sure."

"What? It's a good idea."

"It is, but . . ." Ally sighed. "Other than the fact that I just don't _do_ shit like that, I'm afraid of screwing this up."

"Of course you are." Cait rolled her eyes, but leaned over and stroked her arm. "You did it once."

"You mean when I asked her to dance? I have _no_ idea what possessed me. That was, I suspect, a one-time-only occasion." Ally shivered.

"Awww," Cait said. "So what now?"

"I guess more dinner," Ally said.

"Dinner's good."

* * *

"We'll be at Starbase XI in a few days," Dana said, over dinner, a couple weeks later.

Ally looked up from her spaghetti. "Oh, will we?"

"Yeah. Two days—218 and 219."

"Ohhh," Ally groaned. "They have the best sushi there, and I'm going to be in isolation for this stupid experiment from 218 to 220."

"I could bring you some," Dana offered.

"That would be great, but this is negative-pressure isolation and I don't think the food will last that long. Rain check?"

"Sure," Dana said, but she looked disappointed.

"You should definitely get your own sushi," Ally said. "I'm sure half the ship will be there."

"I will," Dana said. She smiled, but it wasn't entirely convincing. A moment later, though, she asked, "What's the best kind they have?" and Ally forgot about Dana's strange reaction.

* * *

Ally stepped into Captain One's office, her heart in her throat. She really, really hated it when her bosses scheduled meetings without giving her any reason for the meeting, such as "planning a party for Cait's upcoming birthday" or "firing you and throwing you out of an airlock." _It's the suspense that kills me_ , she thought.

Captain One looked up. "Ah, Ensign Jarvis. I'd like to send you on the next away mission."

Ally's heart couldn't decide if it wanted to sink back to normal, with the suspense finally ended, or stop. She hadn't been on an away mission in most of a year and the prospect was, frankly, frightening. "Yes, sir," she squeaked.

Captain One raised an eyebrow at her, but said, "I'll be sending you down as science officer, not as a medic."

 _That_ was surprising. "Oh," she said, and added belatedly, "Thank you, sir."

Captain One smiled, unexpectedly and almost, but not quite, reassuringly. "It was Lt. Zelát's idea. I believe the planet has some strange kinds of mold you might be interested in."

Ally's eyes grew wide, and she repeated, " _Thank_ you, sir!" with more enthusiasm. "I'll—I don't know exactly what I'm supposed to do but I'll definitely meet with Lt. Zelát to figure it out and—" She realized she was babbling and tried to finish it off. "—I won't mess up, sir."

"Relax, Ensign Jarvis," the captain said with—was that a chuckle? "This is, as far as I and Lt. Commander Davis can tell, a milk run."

Somehow that wasn't reassuring, but Ally forced herself to smile. "I'll still do my best, sir."

"I would expect no less. You'll be able to find the relevant information about the planet on your padd shortly. Thank you, Ensign. You are dismissed."

Ally stood, snapped out a salute, and left. An away mission! She was simultaneously thrilled and terrified—although, now that she thought of it, that described most of her career in Starfleet.

* * *

Although, twenty hours later, as she sat in a stadium watching what looked like nothing so much as giant cabbages engaged in some sort of performance art that resembled a cross between Terran jiu-jitsu and Rigellian operetta, the thrill was somewhat gone. The Fr'oxian government had not, as a matter of fact, given her permission to take samples of anything, or so much as readings with a tricorder—they'd explicitly banned both. Captain One was not happy with either condition, but apparently the Federation was in need of some mineral abundant on their planet, so Ally was merely observing.

The performance built to some sort of climax—she had lost track of the story quite a while ago; probably about when Dana sat down next to her—and ended with what appeared to be the lead cabbage eating its rival. "Please tell me that isn't real," Dana said, her breath warm and distracting against Ally's ear.

"I hope not," she replied, and tried very hard not to shift away. Two and a half months in, and she was no closer to figuring out if Dana was merely very friendly or interested. _It was so much easier with Cait_ , she thought. _One minute she smiled at me, and the next minute, I was flat on my back._ She looked up as Dana brushed a lock of hair back behind her ear and noticed some sort of light-greenish dust on her hair. Frowning, she leaned over to look closer, and then to inspect a strand of her own hair.

Strange. She couldn't feel it or see it on her own hair, but she would bet a lot of credits that she and Dana—and, as she looked around her, probably everyone else in their party—was covered with a fine layer of the light-greenish dust. That was disconcerting. The report on the planet had come back saying that the atmosphere was fine for them to breathe, though, and nothing else in the report had given her to understand that there was anything to worry about, in terms of inhalants.

"What's wrong?" Dana asked.

"Green powder," she said. "In your hair. Probably mine, too, although I can't see it."

Dana turned Ally's face to her with gentle fingers on her chin, stared in her eyes, checked her pulse with warm fingers against her wrist, and leaned in to listen to her breathe. "You don't seem to be having a reaction yet. Do you itch?"

"No," Ally said. "Well, now that you mention it, I do, but it's probably just the power of suggestion." She narrowly resisted scratching at her nose.

"Probably," Dana agreed, but the furrow remained between her eyebrows.

Still, as they left the stadium, Ally's worry overcame her fear and she caught up to Captain One. Waiting until she caught One's attention, she said, "Captain, I'm somewhat concerned about the green powder in our hair."

Captain One frowned and pulled out a lock of her hair. "It looks like pollen."

"It does," Ally said, "but as I am not able to run a tricorder scan, I'm not confident in declaring that it is safe."

The captain gave a short nod. "We'll get back to the ship and decontaminate as soon as possible. If a single person so much as sneezes, tell me and we'll beam out immediately."

Just then, Dana coughed, and Ally and Captain One spun to look at her. "Were you trying to get someone's attention?" the captain asked.

Dana shook her head.

One flipped open her comm. "One to _Yorktown_. Four to beam up; I'll conclude the diplomatic negotiations posthaste."

Ally nodded, and felt a tickle build in her throat. As she felt the familiar transporter tingle, she swallowed, trying to suppress it, but a moment after materializing, she doubled over, coughing.

"Shit," Dana said between coughing fits. "Lieutenant, seal off the transporter room. Cathcart to Boyce."

Ally wiped her streaming eyes but could not stop coughing long enough to stand up, let alone anything else.

"Boyce here," she heard over the intercom as Dana stuck her in the neck with a hypospray.

"I need isolation and decontamination for minimum six people, and medical authority to order the captain off the planet _now_. Jarvis's airways are swelling as I speak; if I can't reverse this she'll need to be intubated in a minute or less."

"Lieutenant," Boyce's disembodied voice said to the transport tech, "get Number One up here now, my orders, and beam all of them to Sickbay Isolation Chamber Three on my command." There was a pause. "Then the secondary transporter room will beam you in as well, since you've been contaminated."

"Yes, sir," the lieutenant said.

Ally's vision was starting to gray at the edges; everyone sounded like they were very far away, even though Dana's hands were on her shoulders, and the last thought she had before she passed out was, _Some fucking mycologist I am._

* * *

Gradually, Ally became aware of hisses and beeps around her, and it took another few minutes before she recognized them as standard Sickbay noises. She opened her eyes as soon as she could, and stared at the bland ceiling in the regular Sickbay, not isolation. Well.

A minute or two later—or perhaps well after that; she wasn't too certain about time—the curtain opened, and Dr. Boyce appeared. "You're awake," he said.

"Yes," she croaked, and sighed, the air making a strange whistling noise in her abraded throat. "How long?"

"Five days, although two of those were on purpose," he said, reaching up to hypospray her with something that felt cool on the inside of her throat almost immediately. "You had a bad reaction to the standard treatment for mold-spore exposure. It would have been nice if there was a flag on your file for asthma." He raised an eyebrow at her, and she had the strangest sensation that if he wore glasses, he'd be glaring at her over them. Nonetheless, he offered her a glass of water that had been sitting beside the biobed, and she took a sip gingerly.

"Sorry," she said, and her voice already sounded better. "I haven't had any symptoms in twenty-odd years."

"No excuse," Dr. Boyce said, then sighed. "You almost died, Ally."

Well, what could you say to that? "What happened?"

"After the mold spore hit you and triggered what was probably the worst asthma attack of your life, Dana gave you an antihistamine/steroid combo, which didn't do anything. You keeled over, flatlined before we could get you even out of your uniform, and after restarting your heart and getting you breathing again, we had to dose you with three different antifungals before we figured out what worked. As it turned out, you're more sensitive to this particular spore than most of the rest of the ship, and also—" He glared at her again. "You're allergic to the first- _and_ second-line antifungals for spore exposure."

"Which two?"

"Alpharazin and ciromycelin."

"Never had either. Not my fault."

Dr. Boyce sighed again. "I know." He checked the biobed readings, waved a tricorder over her, and said, "Your readings are coming back to normal; now it's just a matter of recovery. How are you feeling?"

"Like someone ran over me with a grav-sled. Twice."

"I can do something about that." He gave her a second hypospray, and a few moments later, she felt significantly better. "Better?" She nodded. "Well enough for visitors?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

"Because both Cait and Dana made me swear to comm them the _minute_ you wake up, and you know they'll both be in this room within a minute of finding out that you're up." Dr. Boyce raised an eyebrow again. "Dana was sick as a dog, as well, and I had to knock her out to get her to leave your bedside. I guess the two of you have come a long way since the reception?"

Ally could only blame what she said next on the drugs, or being exhausted, or both. "Not far enough."

"I don't think I needed to hear that," he said, although he was smiling.

"I'm sure it's not the worst thing you've heard about my love life, either." Ally sighed. "Yeah, they can come visit."

Dr. Boyce nodded. "I'll comm 'em." He left, and Ally stared at the ceiling, blinking.

Less than five minutes later, Cait and Dana appeared, both out of breath and each trying to elbow the other out of the way. Dana won the race to the bedside, but Cait spoke first.

"Ally!" she said. "Oh, sweetheart, we were so _worried._ "

"You sound like my mom," Ally said, frowning. Dimly, she was aware that she was still loopy. "Hi, Dana."

"Oh, Ally," Dana said, reaching out to touch her and pulling back at the last moment. "You _died._ "

"I'm alive now." Ally suspected that the conversation would be surreal even without the drugs.

"And she'll be staying that way," Dr. Boyce said from the foot of the bed. Ally looked up, and he was very poorly suppressing a grin. "Don't overtire her."

"I'm already tired," Ally said.

Dana looked at her, worried, and then over her head at the biobed readings.

Cait looked at Dr. Boyce, who shrugged, still not-grinning, and sighed. Leaning over to kiss Ally on the forehead, she said, "Ally, I'm going to head out; I've got to be on shift in about twenty minutes. You call me if you need anything?"

It was clearly a strategic retreat. "Okay, Cait. Thanks for stopping by."

Cait and Dr. Boyce left, and Dana hesitated. "Is it okay if I stay?"

Ally closed her eyes briefly. "Well, yeah. That's why Cait and Dr. Boyce left."

"Oh." Dana blinked, and turned to pull over a chair. "Are you sure you're all right?"

"I think Dr. Boyce gave me the good stuff," she said. "I sort of feel like I'm floating."

"You're starting to slur," Dana said. She reached out and finally touched Ally, gently brushing her hair back off her forehead. "Sleep, Ally. It's all right."

Ally yawned. "Yeah," she said, not sure what exactly she was responding to. Maybe the warmth of Dana's hand against her head. Her eyes fell shut, and she opened them briefly. "Hey, thanks."

Dana didn't ask what for. "You're welcome."

Her voice was the last thing Ally heard before she fell asleep.

* * *

Ally woke up with a start, sometime later. "Computer, what the fuck time is it?" she croaked, her throat having gone dry again and the hypospray having long since worn off.

"It is 0100," the computer said, and Ally sighed. She couldn't remember who was usually on gamma shift.

"Ally?"

Well, apparently she didn't need to remember; Dana had been sleeping in the chair. She rubbed her eyes and stretched, and Ally watched appreciatively; although her hair was coming loose from its ponytail and her uniform was rumpled, she was still gorgeous. Which reminded her—Ally touched a hand to her own hair and grimaced.

"How are you feeling?" Dana asked.

"Grimy," Ally said. "Like I haven't showered in a few days." Her voice was still ragged, and she resisted the urge to cough.

"Oh, hold on." Dana produced a hypospray from somewhere and shot Ally with the same whatever-it-was that made her throat feel better. "Would you like some water?"

"Can I dump it over my head?"

Dana smiled. "No, but if you drink it, I'll see if we can get you out of here and into a shower."

"If you can do that, I will love you forever," Ally said without thinking. "Um. I mean—"

"I know what you mean," Dana said. She was smiling, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Here."

Ally took the proffered water, and drank. The water hitting her throat made her realize that she was also ravenously hungry. "Great. Now I don't know if I want food or a shower more."

"You can have both, I think, although probably not at once." Dana took back the cup and set it down on the table. "Can you try to sit up all the way?" She held out a hand.

Ally took it, and levered herself up to a seated position. Her head swam for a moment, and Dana clicked her tongue. "Your blood sugar's a little low. I'm sorry about that. I can give you a hypo now, or you can have some broth in a few minutes."

Ally made a face. "Hypo now, shower first, then food."

Dana nodded, dialed up what was presumably some glucose on the hypospray, dosed her, and held out a hand again. Ally took it again, swung her legs off the table, and stood, shakily. She was wearing a hospital gown; hadn't particularly noticed until she stood. At least she would be getting a shower, she thought, and clung to Dana's arm to walk the few steps to the Sickbay shower room.

Sickbay, of course, had the only water shower on the ship, and Ally stood under blissfully hot water for a good five minutes until she remembered that she was in there to do things like wash her hair. She cleaned up and finished rapidly after that, and toweled dry before dressing in _real_ clothes that Dana had left for her.

"Feel better?" Dana asked, when Ally left the shower room. She smiled as Ally nodded vigorously.

"Look," Ally said, "you don't have to babysit me anymore; I think I'm okay to feed myself and fall over into bed." It was, after all, the middle of gamma shift, and surely Dana had something she'd rather be doing.

"No problem," Dana said breezily. "I'm off-duty anyway."

"Don't you want to sleep?"

"Not if you need help," Dana said, and bit her lip.

Ally chose to ignore any implications of it beyond the obvious, and smiled. "Okay, then. Thanks for the help." She let Dana lead her to her own quarters, and patiently waited for her to run to the mess for some food.

As she ate the bland broth that was all that Dana would allow her, she said, "Tell me what happened over the last five days."

"Ah, well," Dana said, perched on Ally's desk chair. "Dr. Boyce put you in a coma, after he restarted your heart, until he could figure out what to do with you. I responded pretty well to the alpharazin, so I was back on my feet a day or so later. He figured out it was a spore right away, and cursed the fact that the only spore researcher on the ship was currently in a coma."

"I'm sure he did," Ally said, laughing. "Sorry."

"Not your fault. Anyway, we managed to keep it from spreading too far, but both Boyce and the transporter tech got sick. You're the last to recover."

"Did you save any for me?" Ally asked, unable to keep a wistful note out of her voice.

Dana laughed. "Oh, don't worry. There are a whole bunch of little samples bagged and tagged in a secure container for you."

"Oh, good."

Dana smiled again, kind of a strangely indulgent look. Ally's brain recognized it and refused to categorize it. _No,_ she thought. _She's just being nice. I was sick, and she's a nurse. She can't possibly—she can't possibly think that me geeking out about mold spores is cute._ She shook her head.

"Is the soup okay?" Dana asked.

"It's fine," Ally said. "Bland, but I don't think I'm going to throw it up."

"Good," Dana said. "Are you sore, headachy, anything?"

>

"Tired," Ally said, finishing off the last of the soup. Her eyelids were growing heavy again. Dana took the soup bowl from her, and she said, "Hey, Dana, thanks. This is above and beyond the call of friendship."

"No problem," Dana said with another indulgent smile. "Lie down. I'll get your shoes."

Ally scooted under the covers and stuck her feet out; Dana pulled off her shoes, and she tucked them under the blanket. "I'm pretty much out," Ally said, or tried to say.

"That's fine. Call me if you need anything, okay?"

"Yeah, sure," Ally said, and just before she got sucked under into sleep, she thought maybe she felt Dana's lips on her forehead. It was probably just a dream, though.

* * *

A day later, Ally evaded any possible medical objection to her return to work simply by not asking Dr. Boyce if she could do so; she went to her lab at 2300, and found the package full of samples sitting on her desk. _Yes!_ She set up the proper isolation procedure and started running various scans.

She was so buried in her work that she didn't notice someone entering the lab until she felt arms around her waist and a head buried in her shoulder. She stiffened; at first, she thought it was Cait because who else would dare, and Cait totally shouldn't be daring anymore. A moment later, though, she realized it wasn't Cait; it was—she turned her head to check—Dana. _What?_ "Dana?" she said.

"Mmm," Dana said, and kissed the side of her neck. All very pleasant but—what was going on?

"Dana, hey, um, what's going on?"

"Oh, Ally." Dana's hands stroked over her waist and hips. "God. Kiss me _now_."

"I can't; you're—" Dana flipped her around and she was suddenly pressed against her own lab bench, Dana covering her pretty much from neck to knee. The next thing she knew, Dana was kissing her, lips moving against hers, mouth opening to touch the seam of her lips with the tip of her tongue.

Ally wrestled herself away and looked at Dana. This was really weird, even with the strange sort of flirting that they'd been doing over the last couple months, and the way that Dana had been acting since the away mission. "Dana?" she said. "No, seriously: what's going on?"

"God, Ally, I can't stop thinking about you, about your breasts, about your lips, about how much I want you to touch me, about how much I want to touch you." Dana looked up at her, and—something was weird about her eyes.

Before she could determine what it was, Dana leaned in for another kiss, her hands sliding up Ally's arms and back down again.

It was a good kiss—Dana was, in addition to being apparently well-practiced at kissing, reasonably uninhibited, and Ally let her explore the inside of her mouth with little resistance. Still, when Ally pulled away, she tipped Dana's head down to look in her eyes, and finally realized what was wrong. It was dark inside the lab, and Dana's eyes were dark brown anyway so it was difficult to tell, but her pupils were bare pinpricks. That was wrong for so many reasons—the low light and the fact that lust caused one's pupils to dilate most primarily—and Ally said, "Dana, something's wrong. Your pupils are constricted."

"I love it when you talk nerdy," Dana said, her voice low and throaty. She leaned in for another kiss, but Ally turned her head, and Dana started kissing her neck.

 _This is not right. She shouldn't be acting like this. What on earth is going on? And she won't—or possibly can't—stop. I need to get her to stop. Do I just hypo her? Yeah—she'll be so embarrassed when she finds out what she did._ Fortunately, Ally kept a couple of hyposprays around for emergencies, loaded with antihistamines, antifungals, analgesics, and other miscellaneous useful drugs. One was only a few inches away from her hands, and while Dana probably sucked a hickey into her neck, she flicked the end of it with her thumb until it was loaded with a medium-grade dose of something that would knock Dana out for a few hours. She dosed Dana and broke her fall, stretching her out on the floor so she was in a comfortable-looking position, and stood over her prone body, wondering, _Well, what do I do now?_

The answer came quickly: _solve the problem_. She sent a textcomm to Lt. Zel before running a tricorder over Dana; finding a few hormonal anomalies, she took a blood sample and ran it through the machines.

Some strange compound showed up in Dana's blood; Ally isolated it easily. It wasn't anything she'd ever seen before, though—except that group on the end. That group actually—Ally switched back to a slide of the spore—yes, the same group occurred in the makeup of the spore. Strange. Clearly it was some sort of side result of the spore, but what? Also, hadn't the spore been killed—

That was it. Dana took a sample of the live version of the spore, added alpharazin, watched the spore die—and decay, into mostly water, a little ethanol, and trace amounts of the compound in Dana's blood. Great. It was some sort of intoxicating agent. She fed the data into the computer, came up with a model, and asked the computer to calculate what might kill it.

While the computer was still running, Ally's comm beeped. "Jarvis here," she answered, recognizing Dr. Boyce's personal comm frequency.

"Ally?" Cait's voice asked quietly.

"Cait? What's wrong?"

"I think something's wrong with Phil," she said. "He's acting—weird. And his pupils are constricted."

"What's he doing?" Ally said. If it was anything like what had happened to Dana, she didn't really want to know, but she needed to know for diagnostic purposes.

"He's—I'm sorry, Ally, this is going to gross you out—but—well, normally it's only once in a night, but we've had sex three times so far and the only reason we stopped is because I insisted we should take showers. Separately. I mean, it's not that—that's not a problem, trust me—but it's—he keeps talking about—shit, this is embarrassing." Cait took a deep breath. "He keeps saying things like how much he loves me, and how beautiful I am, and how lucky he is to have me, and how amazing I am, and how—fuck, Ally, this is _weird_."

"So he's in the shower right now?"

"Yeah. He's _singing_ in there, Ally. It's fucked up."

"Okay," Ally said. "Look, he's not the only one. The same thing—well, something similar—is happening to Dana. Can you knock him out? If you're in his room, I know he's got hyposprays in practically every drawer."

"How do you know that?" Cait asked curiously. "Never mind; there's probably a really boring explanation, and the shower just went off, so I've only got a minute or two. What should I give him?"

Ally told her, and said, "Can you bring him down to my lab once he's conked out—I know he's not exactly small, but you can call Security for help or something."

"Yeah. Yeah, I'll see you in a bit. Thanks, Ally."

She flipped the comm closed and sighed. Well, at least she knew what the mold spore-alpharazin precipitate was doing—it was removing inhibitions, probably with some libido enhancement. That might make it easier to turn off.

Fifteen minutes later, Cait directed a couple of red-shirted security guards to put Dr. Boyce's unconscious form next to Dana's. After they left, Ally ran the tricorder, took a blood sample, and said, "Yep. It's some sort of bad combination of that spore and alpharazin. How many people had it, do you know?"

"I think the five of you—well, not you; you had an allergic reaction and they put you through dialysis—plus Phil and the transporter tech. Why?"

"I need to call them and warn them, or get someone to pre-emptively knock them out. Or something."

A hail sounded at the door a moment later, and without waiting for a response, the door opened and Captain One walked in. "Cait? Ensign Jarvis? Where's Phil?"

Cait pointed to the floor.

The captain's eyes narrowed. "Cait, what the hell is going on?" She looked up, and Ally could see that her pupils were constricted, too. One's hands were clenched into fists, and she was holding herself more stiffly than usual. If Ally had ever had any doubt that her captain had absolutely iron self-control, she lost it at that point.

"Everyone who was given alpharazin to get rid of the mold spores is having a bad reaction to the combination; it appears to lower inhibitions and increase libido. We knocked them out until I can synthesize an antidote," Ally explained.

"Oh," Captain One said. "That makes sense." Her hands flexed. "I believe that I, too, am having the reaction." Muscles worked in her jaw. "Good God, Cait, haven't you figured out by now that Phil's quite desperately in love with you? And Ensign Jarvis, you're probably the only one on the ship who _doesn't_ know how Nurse Cathcart feels about you, although she's at least a little confused because-- _fuck_."

Ally's eyes widened; she didn't know if it was because the captain had sworn, or because of everything else she'd said. _Dana—what?_

"One—" Cait said, but Captain One interrupted.

"Don't let me call Chris, okay?"

"We can knock you out, too until we find a cure," Cait said.

"That would—" One took a deep breath. "That would be an excellent idea." She sat on the floor next to Dr. Boyce and lay down, her arms at her sides. "Do you need blood samples before you dose me?"

"No," Ally said, and knelt next to her with the hypospray. "I'm sorry, Captain."

"Jarvis, don't apologize, just do your job. It's all I've ever expected of you, whether you are sleeping with my best friend or not. Oh, fucking dose me before I say anything else stupid."

Ally obliged, and pressed the hypo to the captain's neck. The captain sighed as she passed out, and Ally took a deep breath of relief.

"That's some powerful shit, if it can get One to drop an f-bomb or two," Cait observed mildly.

"Are we pretending she didn't say anything?" Ally asked. "I would definitely be in support of that."

"Yes, let's," Cait said. "Let me call Security; I'll see about getting the other three people restrained. How are you doing?"

"I'm fine," Ally said. "I didn't have the alphazarin in my system long enough to have any effects, as far as I know, although I should check."

"You should," Cait agreed. "This isn't transmitted from person to person, is it?"

"I don't know," Ally said. "You want me to check you?"

"Probably not a bad idea."

Ally drew her own blood, and a sample of Cait's; Cait proceeded to locate Lieutenant Tyler, Ensign Statler, and Petty Officer Colfax. The latter two were asleep, but once they awakened, they displayed the same symptoms. Lieutenant Tyler's girlfriend, Ensign Waldorf, had him tied to the bed when Cait commed her. "I don't know what's wrong with him! I was going to put some clothes on and go find someone in Medical!"

Cait, Ally discovered a few minutes later, had no traces of the compound in her blood; Cait was relieved. Ally's blood was also clean, which was remarkably convenient. Tyler, Statler, and Colfax all had the same compound in roughly the same percentages as One, Boyce, and Cathcart, unsurprisingly.

The computer beeped with a result an hour or so later; Ally looked at the screen. "Yeah, no," she said, mostly to herself.

"What's wrong?" Cait asked.

"This will work, but it's toxic to humans. See the hydroxyl group there?" She pointed to the screen. "Computer, remove the hydroxyl group and calculate the change in effectiveness."

"Removal of the hydroxyl group will decrease effectiveness by 0.5 percent," the computer responded, a minute or so later."

"So we're down to 99.5 percent?" Ally asked.

"Affirmative," the computer said.

"I'm okay with that. Cait, you okay with that?"

"Sounds good to me."

Ally synthesized some of the antidote and dropped it into the petri dish containing the residue; it immediately broke down into its component elements and water. She ran the elements through a few calculations. "Shit," she said. "If we use this, we'll have to do chelation afterwards."

"Worth it?"

"I don't think there's an option otherwise," Ally said, and sighed. "Let's get them down to Sickbay."

* * *

An hour or so later, Ally had successfully argued the gamma-shift head doctor into letting her dose the captain and the CMO with something that would turn into toxic heavy metals, and then start chelation protocols. It had probably mostly worked because Lt. Zel appeared, apologizing for the delay, and, after looking at her data, backed her up. Dr. Donhowe wanted to start with Petty Officer Colfax, but Lt. Zel vetoed that right away. "Doctor, this is not the Romulan Star Empire; we do not experiment on enlisted personnel."

Donhowe frowned, but agreed to let them wake Tyler and start with him. He insisted on waking the lieutenant up himself, and did so as Ally loaded up a hypospray with the antidote.

"Where's Ginny?" Tyler asked, as soon as he came to.

"We'll call her for you," Cait said, as Ally dosed him with first the antidote and then, a full sixty seconds later, the chelation therapy. Lt. Zel watched with approval.

Tyler remained curiously silent during the entire procedure, and about five minutes after the chelation started, said, "What happened?"

"Leftovers from the mold spore affected you badly. How are you feeling now?" Ally asked.

"Mostly normal, I think. My mouth tastes like copper."

"That's to be expected. You'll have to stay here until the chelation is done, but that shouldn't be too long now." She checked the numbers above his bed. "Maybe another half hour."

"Okay," Tyler said. "Can you still call Ensign Waldorf for me? I think I owe her an apology."

Ally nodded, and Cait went to do so.

Twenty minutes later, they'd awakened and dosed everyone affected; the therapy worked. Even while checking biobeds to see when the chelation was complete, Ally suddenly found herself without anything to do. She collapsed in a chair between Dana's and Dr. Boyce's beds, as they were in a small room together.

"That was some amazing work, Ally," Dr. Boyce said, turning to look at her. "You stayed level-headed the whole time, from what I hear." He nodded at Cait, who was on his other side.

"I did," Ally said, a little light-headed. She grinned at Dr. Boyce.

He smiled back, and then returned to a serious look. "Although you didn't have medical clearance to return to work. I should put you on bed rest for the next week."

"With all due respect, sir, I'm the one who can stand at the moment." Ally yawned, wide enough to make her jaw crack.

"You should go to bed," Dana said. She'd been oddly quiet since awakening.

Ally looked over her head at the biobed screen as it beeped. "Your chelation is complete. You should probably get some sleep, too, Dana."

"Yeah," Dana said, but didn't move.

"Why don't you walk her to her room?" Cait suggested, probably intentionally ambiguous.

"I can do that," Ally said. She stood, offered Dana a hand, and helped her off the biobed. "Everything okay?"

Dana nodded.

Just then, Dr. Boyce's biobed beeped. "Stick a fork in me; I'm done," he said, and swung his legs off to one side. "You coming?" he asked Cait, oddly hesitant.  
Ally held her breath and heard Dana do the same.

"Yeah, sure," Cait said, off-handedly.

 _Phew_ , Ally thought, and exchanged a glance with Dana.

Dr. Donhowe signed the discharge forms and ordered them all to take forty-eight hours of sick leave. Lt. Zel congratulated her on a job well done, and apologized again for taking over an hour to respond. Ally nodded awkwardly and promised a report as soon as possible, and they left. Fortunately Cait and Boyce had quarters on an entirely different deck from Dana or Ally, so they avoided awkwardness once they exited the turbolift.

"Ally," Dana said, when they were just coming up on her room. "I—shit. I am _so_ sorry."

"Can I come in?" Ally said, instead of responding.

"Yeah," Dana said, and once the door closed behind her, continued. "God, Ally, I am so fucking sorry. I shouldn't have come anywhere near you; I should have figured out that something was wrong and gotten my ass down to Sickbay before I assaulted you."

"How were you supposed to figure out that something was wrong if Dr. Boyce couldn't?" Ally asked. "I'm _glad_ you came to me, so I was able to find out that something was wrong right away. I'm—yeah, okay, I'm not going to lie: you coming on to me was really unexpected and I wasn't sure how to get you to stop without knocking you out, but . . ." She trailed off. "You've got to know it wasn't entirely unwelcome."

"I didn't know," Dana said. "Was it that unexpected? Well, shit."

"You did reject me in front of pretty much everyone I know, including my _boss_ ," Ally pointed out.

Dana winced. "Yeah. About that. Force of habit? Can we forget it happened? I realized I was an idiot about five minutes later, and I've been trying to make up for it ever since."

Ally laughed. "I think we've done a really good job of dancing around each other for months. Even Captain One noticed."

"Did she?" Dana asked. "Oh, dear."

"Yeah. Apparently when she lost her inhibitions, her first urge was to tell everyone off. Probably because Captain Pike isn't around."

Dana smiled. "So what now?"

"I am so fucking tired," Ally said, and yawned again. "How about we sleep?"

"Together?" Dana asked.

Ally shrugged. "Clothes on, even. Unless you don't want to?"

"Oh, _hell_ yes," she said, and strode forward to pull Ally into her arms.

Ally rested her head against Dana's chest and sighed in relief.

"You'll have to be big spoon," Ally said sleepily, and Dana chuckled. Boots, socks, outer bits of uniforms, and bras got strewn across the room, and Ally didn't miss how Dana stared at her breasts once the bra was off, but they fell onto the bunk and curled up together chastely. Dana's bunk was small; no larger than standard, but they fit themselves into it easily.

"This is nice," Ally said, tucking Dana's arm against her chest.

"This is _wonderful_ ," Dana said, and buried her nose in Ally's hair.

"Mm-hm," Ally said, and drifted off, surrounded by Dana's presence.

* * *

When Ally woke up the next morning, she was warm, and fully rested, and comfortable in a way she hadn't been in a while—even while realizing that she hadn't so much as shifted in the past few hours, and her arm was tingling.

Dana had shifted; one of her legs was between Ally's, and her right hand was under Ally's shirt, her fingertips just brushing the bottom curve of her breast. Ally felt her nipple pebble, and sighed.

Dana's hand flexed, and she _hmmmed_ in Ally's ear. _God_ , Ally thought. _I would give a lot of credits to have her shift her hand about two inches up . . ._ She shifted, rubbing her thighs together.

"Mmm, Ally?" Dana asked sleepily.

 _Fuck._ Sleepy Dana was hot as _fire_. "Dana," she said.

"Oh, shit, I'm sorry." She withdrew her hand from Ally's shirt. "I seem to be doing that a lot recently."

"You're welcome to," Ally said, her voice as low as it ever got. "Just ask me first?"

Dana held still for a moment. "Ally, can I touch you?"

"Oh, _please_ do." She wriggled around until they were facing each other. "But I want to watch you do it."

"Okay," Dana said, her face full of awe and wonder, and slid her hand up under Ally's shirt again. Slowly, she trailed her fingers over Ally's ribs, brushing her nails against the underside of her breast, and finally, what felt like an eternity later, she closed her fingers around Ally's left breast.

Ally gasped; she was definitely aroused, and if Dana would only move her thumb just a bit—"Fuck it," she said, and leaned forward to take Dana's lips with her own. She kept the pressure light—how Dana had kissed under the influence of the alien spore compound might not have been how she normally kissed—but partway into it, Dana moaned, flexed her fingers, and moved her hand around Ally's back to tug her in closer.

A moment or two later they broke apart, breathless, and Dana said, "I have horrible morning breath."

"I probably do, too," Ally said, "and I really don't care."

"I do," Dana said. "That is, about me. Not you."

Ally groaned. Of course, now that they'd stopped kissing, she had to pee. _Morning sex is just a comedy of errors sometimes._ "Okay," she said. "You go brush your teeth, I'll brush mine, and we'll get back to business?" She ended the question on a hopeful note.

"Okay," Dana said, and smiled. Ally grinned back, and rolled herself out of bed. Dana got up in one fluid motion, and headed to the bathroom. Ally listened to her brush her teeth, tried not to hear her relieve herself, and heard some soft swishing of clothing that was intriguing. Even more intriguing was when Dana left the bathroom completely nude.

Ally's eyes widened and her mouth fell open as Dana crossed the room, all sleek grace and long legs and curves and-- _fuuuuuuuuck._ Her body was all sensuality, but in contrast, she looked nervous, and Ally hastened to reassure her. "You're beautiful. Really, truly, amazingly, I-never-thought-I'd-ever-see-anyone-who-looks-like-you-naked beautiful."

"Thank you," Dana said, and smiled, although Ally thought perhaps she still looked a little uncertain. "Your turn. There's a spare toothbrush in the cabinet."

Ally jumped up, raced into the bathroom, hurried her way through a pee, a toothbrushing, and a quick check to make sure that she still smelled okay. _Good enough._ Stripping off her shirt, pants, and underwear, she hesitated for a moment—it was pretty obvious even when they were both dressed that she was several levels of hot below Dana, but she'd told herself she'd gotten over that while sleeping with the frankly-stunning chief engineer. _Or maybe not._ She looked in the mirror, grimaced, and thought, _Well. Might as well get it over with._

She stepped out of the bathroom and Dana turned. Ally held out her hands in a "ta-da" gesture, and Dana smiled. "Oh, Ally," she breathed, and Ally flushed red, probably from head to toe.

"Come here," Dana said, and Ally went. Dana pulled her flush against her, head—or shoulder, as it was—to knee, and stroked her hands over Ally's back and shoulders, as much as she could reach. " _You_ are so beautiful, Ally," she said. "God, your _breasts_."

Ally looked down at her own chest. "Well, yeah, they're big," she said. It was pretty undeniable.

"I just want to—" Dana said, then stopped, bit her lip, and blushed.

"You just want to what?" Ally asked, curious.

"Suck on them," Dana said, looking to the side.

"Well, yeah, that's—" Suddenly, everything clicked. "You haven't done this before, have you?"

"No," Dana said after a moment, still red. "Well, sex, yes. With another woman, no."

Ally smiled, as gently as she could. "I promise you, it's not that complicated. If you like it, odds are that I'll like it. Here." She led Dana to the bunk, indicated that she should lie down, and after she did, lay next to her. "You should probably kiss me before the toothpaste wears off."

Dana laughed and leaned in to oblige. Ally pulled out all the stops and used every trick she had with her tongue to get Dana to stop being nervous, and it seemed to work. Dana moaned and stroked Ally's breasts, cupping first one and then the other, running her thumb over the nipples, and finally rolling the nipples between her thumb and forefinger. Ally stroked one hand lightly over Dana's side, wanting nothing more than to roll the other woman onto her back and explore every inch of her body with her hands and lips and tongue and to drive her to at least two and more like five hard, wet orgasms, but this was not the time. _Not yet, anyway._ Maybe later. If she were lucky.

 _Wait. I'm in Dana Cathcart's_ bed. _Naked. I'm lucky by definition._ Dana had, by that point, broken the kiss and started sucking on Ally's neck, just under the corner of her jaw. Ally gasped, and moved a hand between them to trace circles on Dana's collarbone, dipping lower and lower with each circle until she was touching her breast. Dana's nipple hardened to a point, and Ally smiled as she felt Dana's teeth scrape against her collarbone.

Dana lifted her head, looked at Ally, and said, "Is this okay?"

"Yes," Ally said. "Yes, yes, yes. I'll tell you if something isn't. Believe me. Just don't bite too hard."

"I can bite?" Dana asked, pressing her lips together as if to suppress a smile.

Ally grinned. "Be my guest."

Dana grinned back, ducked her head, and started nipping gently along Ally's collarbone, down to her chest, and then quickly swirled her tongue around Ally's nipple.

Ally gasped and jerked, and when Dana added teeth carefully, she moaned and clenched her fingers in the other woman's hair. "You like that?" Dana asked, but with a tone that indicated that she already knew the answer.

"God, yes." Ally let Dana explore her breasts—well, 'let' probably wasn't the right word, but she didn't stop her for a good, really, really good, five or ten minutes. Eventually, though, she just couldn't take it anymore, and she dragged Dana's head back up for a kiss.

"My turn?" she said. "Please?"

"What do you—" Dana swallowed. "What do you want to do?"

"Touch you?" Ally said. "Taste you? What do you want me to do?"

"I don't _know_ ," Dana said. "I know what I like, sure, but I don't know what I like when it's _you_."

"Fair enough," Ally said. "Anything you _don't_ want, that you would expect to be on the menu? Also, while we're at it, is there anything I need to know that I don't because I didn't hack into your file?"

Dana laughed. "No. No surprises in my file. I am _not_ apologizing for that again, by the way."

"No problem," Ally said.

"And no, no vetoes off the standard menu. You want to use your fingers, go ahead. You want to go down on me—" She shuddered. "I'm getting wet just thinking about it."

"Me too," Ally said, and pushed Dana onto her back. "Okay?" Dana nodded. "Good." She kissed her, hot and wet and thorough, and cupped her face with her hands. "Mmm, you taste good. I like your toothpaste, whatever it is, but I like the taste of you _better_." Ally wasn't sure if talking more would make Dana more relaxed or not, but she'd never been particularly silent in bed and it was probably better if Dana learned that sooner rather than later.

Fortunately, Dana writhed under her, arching up for another kiss, and Ally smiled. "God, I've thought about this _so much_ ," Dana said between kisses, and Ally closed her eyes and shuddered.

"Yeah?" Ally asked, inordinately pleased, and Dana nodded. "What was I doing, when you were thinking about us?"

"Kissing me," she replied. "Everywhere."

"I think I can manage that." Ally straddled Dana's hips and stroked her hands over her shoulders, down her arms, and caught her fingers and brought them to her mouth, one hand at a time. Dana gasped as Ally scraped her teeth over the center of her palm, and flicked her tongue between each of her fingers, ending by curling her tongue around the pads of her fingers. Dana was moaning even before she finished one hand, and when Ally kissed her way up one forearm to lick the crease of her elbow, her voice caught and she cried out.

"Shit, that's my _elbow_ ," she said a moment later.

"Mm-hm," Ally said, mirroring her actions on the other side.

"I'm going to _die_ ," Dana said fervently.

"It's only the little death," Ally said, and dotted kisses up Dana's bicep to her shoulder. "Mmm, your skin is so soft. I'm glad I didn't find this out until now, or I wouldn't have been able to keep my hands off of you."

Dana laughed. "Please, keep your hands on me."

"Only if you keep your hands on me."

Dana's hands immediately flew to Ally's shoulders, and Ally laughed. She buried her face in the side of Dana's neck and inhaled. _God._ She smelled good, she tasted good, she felt amazing, she looked amazing—now to get her to _sound_ amazing. Ally slid down a few inches and cupped one of Dana's breasts in her hand. Rolling her eyes up, she watched Dana's face as she took her breast into her mouth, and was rewarded by Dana's eyes closing and her mouth falling open in a soft sigh. _It's a good start._ However, the ultimate reward was a couple feet lower, and _damn_ she couldn't wait to get there.

After sucking both of Dana's breasts into wet brown peaks, she chased kisses all over her ribs, poked her tongue into Dana's navel, eliciting a laugh, and licked stripes into the hollows just inside her hipbones. Settling herself between Dana's thighs, she looked up and said, "If you want me to stop, or move, or change anything, just say so. And you're more than welcome to grab my head or hair. In fact—" She pushed up and pulled her ponytail holder out of her hair, shaking it around her shoulders. "Better?"

Dana nodded, eyes wide. She reached down to touch Ally's hair with gentle fingers, and Ally leaned into her hand for a moment, eyes closed. "Mmm," she said. After a moment or so, though, she shifted down and blew a cool stream right between Dana's legs, and Dana curled up to watch. "I love this part," Ally said, and traced a finger down the seam of her labia.

Dana was so wet that Ally's finger came away dripping, and she spared a moment for a brief feeling of smugness before delving that same finger down to circle her entrance and then back up to ghost over Dana's clit. She repeated the movement until Dana gasped, and then parted her folds gently and used her tongue to follow the same path. "God, you taste good," she said, looking up for a moment.

"Ah!" Dana twisted her head from side to side. "Damnit, Ally, _please_." </>

 _There_ it was, that note of desperation she'd been waiting for. "Yes," she breathed, and stroked the flat of her tongue over Dana's clit.

Dana cried out again, spreading her legs wider, and clutched handfuls of Ally's hair, plainly trying not to shove her around, but Ally took the hint, pressed closer, and started sucking.

If there was one thing Ally knew how to do, it was this, and she had Dana shuddering and moaning and finally screaming her name as she hit the edge and tumbled over in a relatively-short period of time. "Oh, God, _Ally_!" She clenched her thighs around Ally's neck briefly, and then relaxed, boneless, against the mattress. "Fuck."

Ally crawled up the bed and kissed Dana deeply. "Mm," Dana said. "Is that what I taste like?"

"Maybe a little," Ally said. She settled on Dana's right side, between her arm and her body, and rubbed her first two fingers between Dana's legs. Dana jumped, and when Ally lifted her fingers to Dana's mouth, Dana sucked on them for a moment, mimicking Ally's earlier motions with her tongue. It was Ally's turn to shudder. Removing her fingers from Dana's mouth, she replaced them between Dana's legs and stroked in slow circles. "Again?" she asked.

"I—don't know—"

"Oh, but you can," Ally said, settling in to murmur in her ear. "It's still fresh in your mind, how it felt when I tasted you, when I used my tongue on you." She sped her hand up somewhat. "How it felt when you had your hands in my hair, and when you were pulling me against you because you couldn't get enough of my mouth." She sped up her movements again. "Come for me, Dana. Come with my fingers on your clit."

Dana jerked, stiffened, and cried out. "Fuck, Ally!" She shuddered against Ally's hand, and pulled her over for a kiss with significantly more strength than she probably should have had.

A few moments later, she asked, "Are you always this—talkative? And dominant?"

Ally shrugged. "Yeah." No sense pretending otherwise.

"God, that's _hot_ ," Dana breathed.

Ally blinked, and working entirely on instinct, grabbed Dana's wrists, pinned them above her head, and hovered over her, lips only an inch away from the other woman's. "Believe me; I may be almost a foot shorter than you are, but I damn well can _lead_."

Dana went limp under her and moaned. "That is the hottest thing that _anyone_ has ever said to me. _Ever_."

"Yeah?" Ally said, and something inside of her grew warm.

"And not just because your breasts are so close to my face," Dana added with a smile.

Ally snorted, and scooted up to rub her chest on Dana's face. Dana laughed, pulled her wrists out of Ally's hands, and cupped her breasts, squeezing gently.  
After a few moments, Ally lowered herself to the mattress beside Dana. "Good morning?" she said.

"Yes, very good morning. Although I think we're well into the afternoon by now." Dana frowned. "But what about you?"

"What about me?" Ally said, although she knew full well what Dana was asking.

"What do you taste like?" Dana asked, tracing a line down Ally's neck and chest to the point of one nipple.

"You can find out," Ally said, struggling to remain nonchalant in the face of the image that Dana's words had invoked, "or you can find out what I feel like, or you can watch while I get myself off."

Dana sucked in a breath. "As hot as that last one sounds, no. I want to be the one to do it." She threaded one arm under Ally's neck, pushed her onto her back, and stroked one hand down her body until her fingers rested on Ally's pubic hair. "Are you wet?"

Ally spread her legs slightly. "Why don't you find out?"

Dana dipped her fingers down. "Oh, _yes_. Just from getting me off?"

"And seeing you naked, and you touching me—oh!" Dana found her clit with ease— _well, yeah, Ally, she's got a degree or two in the female anatomy_ —and rubbed. "God, just a _little_ to the left—yes, fuck, right there."

Dana's inexperience in getting other women off showed only briefly, when she slowed down at a moderately-inconvenient moment, but Ally ordered her to speed up and, above all, _not to stop_ , and soon she was shaking and swearing her way through her own orgasm. "Fuck, Dana, _fuck_ that's good."

"Was it?" Dana asked, shy but obviously pleased with herself.

" _Yes_ ," Ally said, panting.

Dana withdrew her fingers from between Ally's legs and sucked on them for a moment. "Mm," she said. "My new favorite vintage."

 _Your only favorite vintage_ , Ally thought, but didn't say anything. She'd shared before, and as much as she absolutely wasn't interested in sharing Dana with anyone, well, she didn't want to jinx it by getting possessive. Not yet, at least.

"Ugh, we're sticky," Dana said.

"That's half the fun," Ally said. "But if you want to move to the shower, I will pin you against the wall, sling your leg over my shoulder and fuck you with my tongue."

"That would be so much more fun in a water shower," Dana said, but her breath hitched.

Ally shrugged. "Well, yeah, but those are hard to come by shipboard, and you'd be surprised how fun a sonic shower can be."

"Oh, yeah?" Dana said, one eyebrow arched. "Show me."

So Ally did. Twice.

* * *

A couple days later—days in which Ally and Dana barely left the bed, let alone Dana's quarters—their idyll came to an end when Lt. Zel called Ally in for a meeting.

"I'm sorry I don't have my report done yet," Ally said. "I was on forty-eight hours' sick leave. I'll have it done this afternoon."

"That's not a problem," Lt. Zel said. "I actually wanted to ask you about your evaluations prior to me. They seem, well, inconsistent with what I've observed."

 _That's a nice way to put it._ "I, um." Ally stopped, swallowed, and started again. "I was mostly in medical?"

"Yes," Lt. Zel said encouragingly.

"I'm kind of a lousy EMT? I mean, I had the training and passed all the tests and stuff but any time there's a medical emergency I get flustered and screw things up."

Lt. Zel frowned. "But you just took charge in a medical emergency, came up with the right treatment, administered it, and, from what I observed and from what Lt. Commander Barry has told me, you were completely level-headed the entire time."

"That wasn't a medical emergency, it was a _scientific puzzle_ ," Ally said. "I know it's the same thing, but I don't want to jinx it?"

"All right," Lt. Zel said, amused. "Well, you continue solving your scientific puzzles, and if you keep this up, I'll be recommending you for a promotion at the end of the year."

Ally looked up, floored. "Really?" she squeaked, and coughed.

"Yes, really," Lt. Zel said, with a gentle smile.

* * *

". . . And she said that if I don't fuck up in the next year—well, that's not exactly what she said but close enough—then she'll be recommending me for a _promotion_!" Unfortunately, her voice squeaked again, but even that couldn't dampen Ally's excitement.

"That's amazing!" Dana said, beaming. She swung Ally into her arms and kissed her soundly. "You're halfway to transferring to the _Enterprise_."

"Well, not quite halfway," she said, then paused. "Um."

"Um?"

"I know it's been maybe three days, but—maybe do you think if we're still together you'd want to go to the _Enterprise_ , too? I mean, you can think about it? Or we can talk about it then?" Ally felt her face turning bright red.

"Ally, love, it's been a lot more than three days," Dana said. "And I don't suppose I ever told you this, but I'm pretty much on the _Yorktown_ because Captain Pike reassured me it was the best way to spend the next three years, if I want to end up on the _Enterprise_."

"Oh," Ally said. "Oh, _awesome_." She still had one more question, though. "And I know it's been however-much-longer-than-three days, and my history as far as you know it doesn't support this, but, um . . . are we exclusive? 'Cause I'd like to be."

Dana looked at her, one eyebrow raised. "What on earth makes you think I'd share you with _anyone_?"

"Oh, good," Ally said, relief all out of proportion for the length of the relationship. "And I am _not_ sharing you with anyone, either, just so that's clear. Especially not Dr. Boyce."

Dana grinned. "I don't know, Ally. He's pretty hot."

Ally just groaned.


End file.
